


You Don't Want That

by daydreamblvr6



Series: blvr tropes her way through steve/bucky [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 'got out of hand' should just be a standard issue tag on all my fics, M/M, Scary!Steve, hurt!bucky, those two tags are literally the premise of this entire thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:32:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5650996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamblvr6/pseuds/daydreamblvr6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky goes down in a battle and Steve takes the role of "avenger" to its logical extreme.</p><p>
  <em>Bucky screams and Steve kills the man he’d been fighting to disarm, shakes his decapitated head off his shield as he turns to face the direction that Bucky’s scream had come from.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Want That

**Author's Note:**

> this was so hard to write, so please god if you like it let me know. also, mind the warning.

Bucky screams and Steve kills the man he’d been fighting to disarm, shakes his decapitated head off his shield as he turns to face the direction that Bucky’s scream had come from.

“Steve?” Natasha says from beside him, trying frantically to reach him. She says his name like she’s not sure it’s him. She’s staring right at his face, his helmet having long since been lost.

When Steve’s gaze finds Bucky amidst the chaos of the battle still raging around them, Bucky held dangling in the air, the leader of this latest attack on New York in all his twenty-five foot glory shaking him by the metal arm which is almost completely detached from his body, Steve laughs. There’s anguish in the sound and fury and _malice_ and it makes everything around them stop. The clang of falling weapons echoes off what’s left of the nearby buildings.

Across the battlefield, Bucky laughs too, and says, “You’re _fucked_ ” around a mouthful of blood before the behemoth holding him rips his body off his metal arm and he loses consciousness in the middle of a scream.

“If you kill him,” Steve shouts and even his teammates shake, every one of them, “killing you becomes my suicide mission.” His laugh this time sounds like the depths of the sea, cuts harsh into everyone’s ears. “You don’t want that.”

“Oh he fucked up, he fucked up,” Tony whispers. The words tremble over the comms and none of the Avengers answer him. He hadn’t meant to speak.

“Oh?” says the giant, but his other hand has gentled around Bucky’s prone form, his thumb moving up to staunch the bleeding from Bucky’s mangled shoulder. “Why is that?”

“Because I’m the scariest fucking thing you’ve ever heard of when I’m trying to end up dead.”

“I doubt—”

“Don’t,” Steve tells him, his voice like blood burbling from a slit throat. His fists are clenching and unclenching, one around the handles of the shield, one on nothing but air. “Don’t doubt.”

Natasha lurches toward him again, less graceful than she’s ever been as she stumbles over rubble and bodies to get to him, still saying his name like a question.

Clint, shaking and not from having just landed hard on the ground nearby, grabs her around the waist and pulls her bodily away from Steve, fighting her every step of the way. It’s a fight for all he’s worth and she hurts him, but he doesn’t put her down until they’re a hundred feet away from Steve. His arms stay around her and his eyes – wide and wild – stay on Steve. Tony grabs Sam by a wing and joins them, fast as his suit will let them. There are enemies on all sides of the four of them now and they don’t care.

Natasha rakes her eyes over him in the suit, tilts her head in Steve's direction.

"I'm not standing in the way of  _that_ ," Tony blurts in a whisper, gesturing far less wildly than he usually would at Steve's heaving shoulders.

“Bucky Barnes,” Steve snarls, stalking towards the giant, who staggers backwards, “is my one. Sacred. Thing. There is no love, no moral, no life that I hold higher than him. You,” he steps on the sternum of a dead man with so much force that it crunches beneath his foot, blood and guts splattering, “are going to lay him down as gently as that deserves. And then you’re going to get the fuck out of my way.”

Slowly, tenderly, clearing away a spot to place him, as though he was the one who had loved Bucky all his life, the giant obeys. Then he scrabbles to get away, falling backwards onto his hands and pulling himself back, streaking piss across the rubble. He can’t get his trembling feet beneath him as he drags himself away from Bucky, grunting heaving breaths and never looking away from Steve’s face.

Steve reaches Bucky and drops to his knees, choked. Frantically, he pushes Bucky’s hair back from his face and moves to check his pulse, has to use his other hand to hold his wrist to stop that hand from shaking so hard. He is afraid, terrified, hanging out of a train careening around a mountain again, but the shaking is fury driven.

The giant is still clambering to put distance between them; his lackeys abandon him in droves.

Steve finds Bucky’s pulse and exhales with so much force that he blows Bucky’s sweat-sticky hair back around his face. He strips the top of his uniform off, pushing it against Bucky’s shoulder and cinching it gently in place with his belt looped around Bucky’s torso. Lovingly, he eases Bucky back down to the ground.

Still in a crouch, he twists and stalks again towards the giant, never fully standing, until he has the giant trapped against the half-demolished side of a building. The giant quakes and whines, swings his hands around in an attempt to defend himself, but Steve kicks first one and then the other, so hard and swift that the bones break as they hit the wall behind the giant’s back. Steve shoves into the giant’s face in the opening that creates, growling things that aren’t words at him, enraged. He puts a foot in the middle of the giant’s chest, lines the shield up and then, in no rush, he pushes it through the giant’s body at the seam of his left shoulder. He pushes until the shield is lodged into the brick behind him.

The giant gasps and cries around it, struggling to break free. But with Steve’s hands still against it, Steve’s face in his own, he can’t. He makes it worse instead. His blood streams over the shield’s star.

“Stevie?”

Immediately, Steve launches himself back to Bucky, skidding to Bucky’s side and making sounds that make Tony shudder in the suit, a ring ting tinging joining them in the air.

“’ll’be fine,” Bucky tells Steve, his words thick and slurred with blood. With his remaining hand, he taps his chest where Steve’s tears are falling. “Stern stuff.” A cough, more blood. “That’s also… not the first time that’s happened.” Steve whimpers and drops his head onto Bucky’s hand 

Natasha breaks free from Clint, all grace and power returned to her, sprinting to where the giant is bleeding out. Clint runs after her and the others follow. She has a gun in her hand and is swinging it toward the giant’s head.

“Natasha,” Steve says, stone cold. He lifts his head.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam breathes.

Natasha pirouettes like the ballerina she never was, gun coming to her side. Clint looks ready to die behind her, his bow drawn against Cap.

“Let him bleed until he’s dry,” Steve orders. The words drip heavy from his mouth.

Natasha shakes her head. The gun in her hand is trembling. The gun in Natasha’s hand never trembles.

“Steve, man,” Sam tries, gentle and reasonable, in the voice he reserves for Steve’s pain. “This can’t be you.” He steps up beside Natasha, hands up and open.

Sam’s whole body flinches and he stumbles back behind Natasha when Steve whirls into standing, one of Bucky’s knives brandished in his hand.

“Anyone goes to kill him fast and I will kill them faster.” The knife is steady.

“ _Fucking_ fuckity fuck!” Tony curses, shrill, he can’t help it, regrets speaking immediately – a new sensation – as he sees Steve’s head start to turn toward him.

But Bucky talks over him, huffing, “Pick me up, Steve.”

Jerking, Steve snarls what he thinks of that idea down at Bucky.

“Do it, you would-be-murderous punk,” Bucky demands and, stiffly, letting the knife drop, Steve obliges.

“I’m not gonna die, Stevie,” Bucky says once they’re face to face. He licks his teeth and spits blood between their feet. When he speaks again, it’s clearer. “And you’re not gonna kill your friends over me. Calm the fuck down, all right?” He presses his forehead to Steve’s. “Calm down, I’m here. I’m here, Stevie. Not goin’ anywhere.” He smiles.

“Cry some more,” he tells him, “that’s what you really need to do.”

Tony and Clint hold their breath. Natasha puts both hands on the gun and Sam readies his wings.

Steve mumbles, “You asshole” against Bucky’s bloodstained lips.

Bucky laughs, then moans, sways closer to Steve. “He’s gotta go quick, Steve. Slow ain’t no good for you, darlin’.” He flicks his wrist, weakly, calls, “Natasha.”

She steps over, taking the long way in her wariness of Steve, and hands him the gun.

“Bring me closer, Stevie.”

Steve obeys, until they’re standing between the giant’s twitching legs. He helps Bucky shuffle around to get his back to Steve’s chest. Steve holds him up like a doll stand.

“Told you you were fucked,” Bucky says, wobbling above the giant, whose crying hasn’t stopped. He shoots the giant twice between the eyes and passes out.

Steve sobs until Bucky wakes up again.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr](http://themartyrsthesaintsthesaviors.tumblr.com)
> 
> (*whispers* i might be able to be talked into a chapter two)


End file.
